by J. Benson
He seemed to be moving in slow motion, but just as his lips touched mine, the barista called us forward as her next customer.
I sighed, dropping my forehead onto his chest. I was completely and whole-heartedly disappointed. I had been looking forward to that kiss with ever fiber and nerve ending in my body.
He chuckled softly, dropping his chin onto the top of my head. "Two venti hot-chocolates."
"I don't want one now, I just want you to kiss me again." I mumbled like a spoiled teenager, clutching onto his scarf.
"Later." He murmured, placing a kiss against my hair. He tucked me into one arm and moved forward, to approach the cash register. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans. He flipped open his wallet and handed over a few bills to the cashier.
Chapter 48:
Meeting Mother
Taylor and I were curled up on the sofa together. I slipped my hand into his, carefully. I laid my other hand on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat below my palm. His heartbeat was soothing.
I glanced up at the clock for the hundredth time in nearly an hour. We were beyond late for dinner and there was no communication from my mother; leading me to believe that she hadn't even bothered to make the reservations. And even if she had remembered to make the reservations, we were so late, that the restaurant probably gave away our table.
"Looks like we missed dinner." I sighed, sliding closer to Taylor on the sofa. I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling defeated and embarrassed.
"Let me make you something." He offered, immediately. "I'm an excellent cook."
I sighed "You and I both know there really isn't any food in the fridge or cupboard... unless you want to drink the case of beer under the sink, or the bottle of vodka in the vegetable crisper. There's also a bottle of wine in the breadbox, we could try that."
He didn't respond, and the room fell into complete silence.
"Sorry." I admitted. "That was out of line. I'm doing that thing again where I lash out..."
Taylor didn't respond, but placed an absent kiss on my forehead, his arm tightening around my body.
I gazed up at him, trying to read his expression. "We could order out. There's a great pizza place two blocks over... or Thai food. That's always good."
"Why don't we wait for a little bit? See if your mother turns up." He suggested.
"It's almost ten." I wanted to add that she probably wouldn't turn up at all, but I kept my mouth shut.
I rested my head on his shoulder for a few moments in silence.
"Taylor... I hate to bring this up again... but I have to tell you... I'm sorry... about last night." I admitted.
Confusion colored his face. "What do you mean?"
"Last night... the fight we had... about Paige."
"I know what you mean; I just... don't know why you're sorry."
"I overreacted." I admitted.
"No," He said, playing with my fingers. "I think you reacted exactly the right amount... you have no idea how much I hate that this has come between us, and how much she keeps coming between us. It's exactly what she wants. I hate that I was stupid enough to let myself... I mean, if I had just waited a couple more months until I met you, this wouldn't keep happening. We wouldn't be having this argument all the time. I'm the one who should be apologizing."
I opened my mouth to protest, but he held one finger to my lips and silenced my protests.
"No, for once in your life don't argue with me, okay?" He instructed with a smile.
I smiled back. He knew me far too well.
"I feel horrible. I screwed up so badly here, Emma..." He sighed.
I slid closer to him and slid my arms around his neck, embracing him tightly.
"I'm still grossed out about the fact that you actually.... I mean, with her." I sighed.
He dropped his forehead onto my shoulder. "I'm sorry. Really. If it helps any, I'm pretty disgusted with myself too."
We were interrupted by the front door banging open. "Emmeline?!" My mother's voice came into the room.
My eyes grew wide in shock and disbelief. For a moment I wondered if I had fallen asleep on the sofa and I was dreaming. But I blinked back into reality and straightened up.
"Mom?" I slipped out of his arms and stood from the sofa.
Taylor stood and smoothed his hair down. He was being cute. He seemed nervous.
"Come on." I smiled eagerly, taking his hand and pulling him around the sofa. I pulled him toward the entry hall and stopped so suddenly, Taylor bumped into me. He held onto my waist to steady us both.
"Mom?" I asked.
"Hey, Sweet-pea. How was your flight?" She dropped her briefcase to the floor and moved forward, promptly tripping over it. I expected the worst.
"Our flight was good." I smiled, squeezing Taylor's hand. "Mom, this is Taylor. Taylor, this is my mother..."
"Nice to meet you." Taylor smiled politely, extending his hand.
My mother seemed to ignore this. "How was school?" She inquired.
"Mom, its Saturday. We're here for the weekend, remember? Where have you been for the last twelve hours?" I demanded.
"Oh come on, I don't need a babysitter. I'm an adult!" My mother scoffed.
She moved toward me and hugged me tightly; I could smell the stench of stale alcohol on her skin, her clothes and her hair. The smell nearly choked me.
I knew immediately where she had been.
"You've been drinking!" I accused. I said the last word with disgust and distaste, like a foul word spilling over my lips.
"I went to the university to grade some papers and stopped by the bar to have a few drinks with some co-workers. So sue me." I noticed at last the heavy slur in her voice.
"You're drunk." I cried as if I was actually surprised. "You knew we were coming. You knew we'd be here, and you couldn't keep away from the bar for even a couple of hours!" I accused. "You wanted to see me so badly, you flew me all the way out here to see me, and you couldn't even eat one lousy meal with us! Nothing has changed! I knew this would happen! I should have never trusted you!"
"Lighten up, Sweet-pea." My mother rolled her eyes.
"Unbelievable!" I fumed and spun on my heel toward the stairs.
I stormed up the stairs and into my bedroom, stopping in the middle of the room. I felt close to tears, but Taylor was behind me in a second. His arms moved around my waist urgently; eager to comfort me.
"Emma, its okay..." He began.
I moved out of his arms and sat down on the edge of the bed, dropping my head into my hands with a heavy sigh.
He sat next to me, bending his knee upward on the bed so he could sit closer to me. He reached for my hands. "Emma, talk to me..."
"This is what she always does... she makes plans and acts like a caring, loving, normal parent and then all of a sudden she shows up drunk..." I looked up into his beautiful concerned face.
I moved toward him suddenly and pressed my lips to his, catching him off guard.
I pushed him backward onto the pillow and moved between his thighs, pressing myself against him.
His mouth was open in alarm, and I kissed him deeply, wrenching the buttons of my blouse open, and reached to remove his shirt.
"Emma, wait!" He cried around my lips. His hands grasped my wrists tightly. "Not... not because you're mad at your mother..."
He sat up, shifting both of our bodies until we were both sitting upright.
I tried to regulate my breathing, to stop my chest from heaving.
He raked his hand roughly through his hair. "Emma..." He began, his eyes flitting over me, and resting a little too long on my chest.
"That's... that's distracting." He muttered, reaching out with both hands and with his long, clumsy fingers, tried to refasten the tiny buttons on my shirt.
I shoved his hands away, and refastened the buttons my own shirt. "Do you have a problem with kissing me? For some reason you can't get into the whole idea of having sex with me? You just don't want to or you just can
't see yourself with anyone other than Paige?" I demanded irritably.
"Emma!" He cried. "Do you always do that? Force an argument when you don't get your way?"
My jaw dropped and my eyes widened in shock. I pushed him away and stood.
"Emma, no, wait. I didn't mean that." He sighed.
"Then why did you say it?" I demanded, standing up and crossing the room. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible.
"Because you push me, sometimes. You have this weird way of getting under my skin... Sometimes I feel like I try so hard to make things work, and it feels like you're pushing me away all the time. You've got all this personal space around you and as soon as I step forward, you take two steps back."
I chewed my lip. "And you love me anyway?" I challenged.
"I am trying here... but nothing seems to be good enough for you." He sighed, looking down at his hands. "Do you not want to be with me?"
"Of course I do!" I cried, moving rapidly toward him. "I just... I have issues, I guess." I sighed.
"Emma..." He began carefully. "I want to be here for you... but you're making it hard for me. You have to let me in."
I sighed and sat down where I had been sitting before. I could feel tears welling in my eyes; the last thing I wanted was for him to see me cry. He was completely right. I had lashed out at him and tried to hurt him, simply because I was hurting.
"I know. I'm a horrible person. I... I get so upset with the things I've been through and what's going on with my mother... I'm taking it out on you. I don't mean to push you away..." My voice choked. "You're the most important person to me right now... I don't want to push you away. I just don't know how to feel good about the people around me anymore. Because I'm afraid if we get too close, something will happen and I'll lose you forever. I can't handle another broken heart right now... I can't.”
Tears were already sliding down my cheeks. I looked down, unable to see him from the water clouding my vision. Tears fell from my face and dripped onto the bedspread.
"Emma..." He began, and before I could even move, his arms locked around me tightly, drawing me to him.
My arms folded between us and I buried my face in his shoulder, struggling to withhold sobs. "I'm sorry." I mumbled. "I'm so sorry."
"No, no... don't be sorry. I understand completely." He murmured, lightly stroking my back.
I sobbed softly. "I hate her."
"Paige?" He inquired innocently.
"No!" I pulled out his arms. I hastily wiped at my eyes. "My mother. I hate her."
"Oh... sorry." He breathed.
"I hate her. I hate my own mother." My hands covered my own face. "She gave birth to me and nurtured me and raised me... I'm a horrible person. I hate my own mother."
His arms moved around me tighter, "Emma, she's clearly sick... When she's drinking like that, she really isn't your mother anymore. You've got to remember that. Your mother is still in there, she's just buried deep beneath an addiction." He murmured against my hair.
I tried to regulate my breathing and stop crying. "Taylor...." I began.
"Yeah, Emma?" He murmured, holding me tightly.
I felt suddenly safe and comfortable, like the one place I truly belonged in the world was in his arms.
"I love you too." I breathed.
"You're upset..." He reasoned.
"No, I mean it." I replied, twisting in his arms to face him. "I love you too."
His arms tightened around me. "I love you too... You have no idea." He murmured.
I sobbed softly on his shoulder.
"I hate seeing you cry." He sighed, stroking my hair. "It kills me."
"You've only ever seen me cry once." I pointed out.
"That's more than enough." He squeezed me to him tightly, and rocked me softly until my crying subsided.
Even I was surprised at how quickly it worked.
"It's late, Emma." He whispered against my hair. "Why don't you try to get some sleep, hmm? We have an early flight tomorrow."
I nodded, "Okay. You're right." I slipped out of his arms and wiped at my eyes with the backs of my hands.
"Here." He reached to the nightstand and produced a wad of tissues, handing them to me.
"Thank you." I sighed, dabbing at my eyes. "I hate this. I hate that it gets to me."
"It's okay. It's understandable." He tried. "Do you want me to go so you can get changed?"
"No!" I cried, latching onto the front of his shirt. "Stay, please?"
He nodded slowly. "Okay. Anything you want."
"Can you sleep in here with me tonight?" I asked.
"Are... are you sure?" He asked carefully.
"Just to sleep." I clarified. "For now. I don't want to be alone right now."
"Alright. If that's what you want. Let me put my pajamas on?"
I nodded.
He left the room, and I stood immediately, walking into the bathroom to find my pajamas. I avoided my reflection in the mirror, knowing my face would be red, blotchy and swollen; not a pretty sight.
When I returned to my bedroom, Taylor was already sitting on my bed, having folded down the blankets.
I climbed over him and slipped into the bed, kicking my way under the covers.
He reached over to help me. Once I lay down with my head on my pillow, Taylor stretched out on top of the blankets on his back.
"What are you doing?" I inquired.
"Going to sleep..." He said innocently.
"No." I said quickly, shoving back the blankets from underneath him.
He sighed, but climbed under the blankets anyway, pulling the sheets up to his chest. "Happy?" He teased.
I nestled under his arm, resting my head against his chest. "Very."
His arms tightened around me. "Good."
After a moment, he placed a light kiss in my hair. "Your mother left." He said softly.
I sighed. "I heard."
Taylor reached around and clicked off the light. "Okay. Let's just get some sleep...."
Chapter 49:
Calm after the Storm
I woke slowly, inhaling a deep breath. All I could smell was Taylor. I was surrounded by him, and I was blissfully warm and content. I tried to move closer to him before I opened my eyes, but I couldn't move. I was already cradled to his side. I was tucked against him, and held captive under a strong and heavy arm. Not that I was complaining about being held captive by Taylor.
"Mmmm... Taylor?" I murmured.
"I'm here." He whispered softly. "Are you awake? Did I wake you?"
"No," I mumbled, my eyes still closed.
"No you're not awake or no I didn't wake you?" He asked. My eyes didn't have to be open to know he was smiling.
I opened my eyes and lifted my head from his chest. "Yes, to the first question and no to the second." I smiled.
I sighed and nestled my cheek further into his chest. I nestled back into the soothing warmth and comfort that he radiated and I felt instantly better about everything.
He sighed heavily, his breath rustling my hair. "I think that was easily the best night's sleep of my life." He admitted, laying a soft kiss against my hair.
"Me too," I returned. "And you're warm."
He chuckled. "Good to know. I'll add that to my resume. Excellent interpersonal skills and warm."
I sighed. "Taylor, I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have brought you here knowing that it would be like this..."
"Stop apologizing." He said immediately. "First and foremost, you didn't really bring me here. I sort of invited myself and insisted on coming. If I recall correctly, you were quite adamant that I stay behind, but I insisted. Secondly, it's not your fault that she's the way she is. Emma she's sick, and she needs help. More help than you're equipped to give her."
"Okay." I agreed. I felt slightly better about everything, even if I was still mortified over him witnessing the fight with my mother. "I suppose we should get up..."
"No, we have plenty of time." The arm that was circled around me l
ightly stroked my arm. "Let's stay in bed forever." He mused, laying a kiss against my hair.
I smiled to myself, hiding my smile in the fabric of his soft t-shirt. "When does our flight leave?"
"We have two hours before we have to leave for the airport." He murmured, pressing his lips to my forehead. He laid a soft kiss against my skin.
"I know." I sighed. "I don't want to go."
"You want to stay here? In New York?" He demanded. His voice was an octave higher than normal. There was clearly panic evident in his voice.
"No. I don't want to stay in New York. I want to stay here, in this bed with you." I clarified.
Taylor laughed softly. "Good. You had me worried there for a moment."
I turned onto my stomach, resting my chin on his chest so I could look up at him. "I could never leave you."
"Good." He smirked. He sighed, "Though I think I need to shower."
I nodded. "Okay... how about I make breakfast?"
He raised one eyebrow.
"Umm... I can make cereal...." I paused. "Actually, maybe we can grab something on the way." I admitted.
"Okay... I definitely need to shower, though." He smirked.
"Okay." I replied reluctantly. I felt Taylor hold me close for one too-short minute before he released me and slipped out of bed. He playfully flipped the blankets over my head and I yanked them down laughing just in time to see him saunter from my room and into his room. I heart the shower running a few minutes later.
I sighed and remained in bed for a few extra moments before I decided that I needed to get up. My sheets and pillows smelled deliciously of him. I dressed in a pair of jeans and a soft cashmere sweater from my closet. I brushed my hair into a neat pony-tail and wandered around my room. I had some extra room in my suitcase, and thought if there were any small items in my bedroom here, I might pack them and bring them to Tulsa. I grabbed a few books, and a picture of my dad holding me as a baby. It was framed in a pretty navy blue ceramic frame, and I wrapped it carefully in one of my sweaters.
I grabbed a few sweaters and two pairs of jeans from my closet. I left some of my expensive, name brand clothing behind. I was afraid I would look out of place wearing them at school in Tulsa. I already stood out more than I liked, and the last thing I wanted was to be ousted as a spoiled rich kid, when I wasn't one any longer. If I ever was one in the first place.